Big E and I bought a house a few months ago. It’s a fixer-upper. I originally wanted to start this blog to document the befores and afters of our work. That was a good two months ago and I haven’t typed one word about houses, paint, cabinets, tile, or toilets. Not one word has been typed.
Big E and I also have a son, Little F. When I was pregnant I wanted to keep a journal about my pregnancy and my hopes and fears. I think I wrote one entry throughout the almost 42 weeks I was pregnant. Little F is now 17 months old and I keep thinking I’m going to start documenting his life but I haven’t typed one word about diapers, breastfeeding, sleep patterns, smiling, crawling, or walking. Not one word has been typed.
My dad was recently diagnosed with prostate cancer. It’s in the early stages and the cancer hasn’t spread to his bones or outside the prostate that we know of. He’s in great shape and should have a full recovery. But my mom passed away when I was 17 and the last time one of my parents was in the hospital I never saw them outside of its walls again. Needless to say I’m more than a little anxious about my dad’s upcoming surgery. I kept a journal throughout my adolescence until my mom found my journal and read it. It took a long time before I felt comfortable enough to start writing again. After my mom died I didn’t write anything down. There wasn’t one word about pain, grief, loss, anger, or confusion. Not one word was typed.
I guess all of those words are supposed to tell you that this is going to be my place to write about whatever is on my mind. My public diary, so to speak. I’ll end up writing about my dad, my son, my house projects, whatever needs to be documented. I just don’t want anymore time to go by without writing something, anything down.